Actions of a Mage
by Slyth-Rei
Summary: The new Hogwarts DADA professor is a mage, and teaches her skills to six seventh-year students.
1. Disclaimer

Disclaimer - I, in no way, shape, or form, own any of the characters herein previously licensed to J.K. Rowling and Co. Please don't sue me. 


	2. Reunion

Hi everyone! I just wanted to put a few quick ANs on here before I start the story to answer questions you may or may not have. First of all, this story takes place during Harry's seventh year at Hogwarts. Voldie is still around. This story is a HP/SS slash fic, but more emphasis will be placed on Draco and his relationship with a character I've created. You'll probably have a lot of questions about her, but you'll find out at the same time as the rest of Hogwarts, ie, chapter 8 or so. The chapters are short, in hopes that I can update at least once a week. Other than that, thanks for the reviews, and keep 'em coming!!  
  
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"Harry!"  
  
A boy who must answer to that name turned to find the source of the squealing. He was attacked by a bushy, brown haired girl and engulfed in a giant hug. He nodded to a red-haired boy following.  
  
"Ron."  
  
"Harry! How was your summer?"  
  
"Great," Harry said, free of sarcasm for once. "The Dursleys went away for six weeks. I had the house to myself. Snuffles and some other wizards came to visit."  
  
"'Mione, I think we all know Harry's back and we're all glad to see him, but." Ron said.  
  
The girl let Harry go and stepped back to Ron with a blush.  
  
"Sorry, Harry. I'm just glad to see you."  
  
"Likewise, Miss Granger," Harry said with a theatrical bow.  
  
The three boarded the train and passed an uneventful day. Ron and Hermione filled Harry in on the events of their summers. They reached a calm silence and enjoyed it, basking in the feel of companionship, until the door flew open. Draco Malfoy stood in the hallway, without his bodyguards.  
  
"Tradition," Malfoy smirked. "Every year for the past six, I've come in here, traded insults, and gotten the term off to a good start. This year, though it be the seventh and our last, should be no different."  
  
"Where are your bodyguards?" Ron asked. Harry watched the two other men carefully.  
  
"Azkaban," Malfoy answered easily. Hermione turned white and Ron gaped silently. Draco looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow. Harry shook his head and Malfoy shrugged before leaving.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Ron shrieked.  
  
"Definitely out of character," Hermione added.  
  
Harry just leaned back in his chair and smiled. 


	3. Introduction, Part 1

The Sorting finished and Dumbledore gave the Welcoming address.  
  
"The DADA prof isn't here and the headmaster hasn't said anything. Is she coming?" Ron leaned over and asked his girlfriend and best friend. Harry looked away, raised an eyebrow, got a nod in response, and returned to the conversation.  
  
"Yes," he said. "She'll be here."  
  
"She?"  
  
Before Hermione could say anything, the doors to the Great Hall flew open. A woman strode in, stopping in the center of the hall. All were silent, staring at - what they rightly assumed was - the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.  
  
Her hair was silver and bound in tight braids. Her eyes were also silver and skimming the crowd fast. She was clad in black leather, tight and supple trousers covering her legs and a sleeveless leather top hiding her torso. Her silver belt held four small pouches on each side, tiny phials peeking over the top. Between each pouch lay a wand holster, eight wands in all around her waist. Two wooden stakes were near the front of her belt. Wrist gauntlets were also ebony and silver leather, holding two small daggers a piece. Her nails were long and painted metallic coal. Scars could be seen on her arms and neck, where a small crystal was dangling from a silver chain made of ankhs. A bell bandolier stretched from shoulder to waist and held seven bells ranging in size. On her back, twin rapiers were crossed and ready for use. They were deadly weapons, black onyx stones in the hilt mirroring the onyx in the daggers around her wrists and the knives strapped to her thighs. Big black boots and a heavy ebony cape completed the ensemble.  
  
Dumbledore stood and smiled.  
  
"Students? May I introduce your Defense professor? Fire Mage Rowan has agreed to help me out for a year here at Hogwarts, partially to rest from a stint in.. ."  
  
"In Japan," Rowan answered, her sibilant voice echoing in the silent hall.  
  
The rest of the night was more ordinary, at least for the majority of the people housed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Golden Trio went to the Gryffindor tower and talked until midnight. Draco Malfoy slid down to the dungeons. Teachers gossiped and retired. Mage Rowan dropped into her new room and smiled at the work of art she had crafted as a home. She took off all of her weapons and accessories, except for the necklace, the first wand, and the two stakes. She snuck out of the castle and headed towards the Forbidden Forest.  
  
--  
  
AN: Sorry this chapter seems hurried, I'm trying to get to the good parts! Thanks for the reviews. I want to confess, some of my ideas have been provoked thanks to other fics I've read and loved. The mage idea comes primarily from the fic "The Mirror of Maybe," which is one of my absolute favorites. 


	4. Solitary Hunting

_The hunt. Smell the creatures out. Owls above. Centaurs east. Unicorns north. Blood to the west. Slide in shadow. Search out the blood. There! Caught the scent, on the hunt. Smell of blood, smell of death, smell of emptiness. Empty creature, out for blood. Emerge from shadows, thrust the stake. Step away, watch it dust, wait for death to eat the undead. Retrieve stake. The hunt. Smell the creatures out. Bats above, centaurs west, acromantulas north. Blood to the south. Slide in shadow.  
  
Seven gone, seven dusted. One on the edge of the forest, one with a soul. Confront. Meet. Souled creature, wait for me, I am coming.  
_  
Snape felt someone calling to him, asking him to wait. The message spilled through his veins and he bade his servus stay inside. Snape looked around and saw nothing until he felt a stake point at his neck.  
  
"You are ensouled," the voice said. "You are not mine," and the stake dropped.  
  
Snape turned to face Mage Rowan. He sniffed the air around the woman. His face showed surprise and he stumbled back from her.  
  
"You're the Slayer? I thought you were merely a hunter. How? I thought the Slayer lived on the Hellmouth."  
  
"She is the Slayer, I am the Slayer. I'm here for another reason."  
  
"What?"  
  
"The Headmaster is allowing me to take on special lessons for particular students."  
  
"You are qualified?"  
  
Rowan nodded, but didn't offer explanation. She looked at Snape, narrowed her eyes at what she saw.  
  
"You must feed. Call your servus. I will go."  
  
"Wait!" Snape called as Rowan began to glide away.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"How many tonight?"  
  
"Seven."  
  
"And you're going back out?"  
  
"I am not a traditional Slayer. They defend, protect. I hunt."  
  
Rowan melded with the shadows and disappeared.  
  
Severus stared at the spot where Rowan had last been seen.  
  
_The hunt. Smell the creatures out. Hawks above, manticore south, souled one and servus east, bound by blood and soul, magic older than that which souls. Accursed blood to the north. Slide in shadow, search out the blood._

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AN: Answers will come soon! I promise! 


	5. Souls and Curses

AN: From here on out, I'm going to put myself into Rowan's shoes and point of view. The rest of the story will be from her perspective, so I'll only be telling you what she knows, sees, and does. Please read and review!!  
  
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I walked into the Great Hall for breakfast at six, fresh in from the hunt. Professor Snape sat, eating toast and clearly waiting for me. I nodded at the Souled Vampire and sat next to him. I muttered under my breath and red fruit appeared on my plate.  
  
"What language was that?" Snape asked.  
  
"Elven," I replied easily, taking in the potion master's surprise. Seeing the confusion on his face, I laughed. "You forget, Master of Potions, that I am a Mage."  
  
Snape nodded, but I knew he didn't understand my response fully.  
  
"When is your first class, Mage Rowan?" he asked.  
  
"This afternoon, professor. The headmaster was kind enough to allow me afternoon classes only. I believe today I have seventh year advanced Defense."  
  
"An interesting group, Mage. Good luck." Snape managed to say that without smirking, which I thought would be impossible.  
  
"Thank you," I answered, finishing the fruit and standing up smoothly. "If you will excuse me, I believe I am going to find my bed and collapse into it."  
  
"Late night, Rowan?"  
  
"Ah," I said, not turning around to look at who was behind me. "Headmaster. Yes, a very late night indeed. And morning comes so early."  
  
"What time did you turn in, Rowan?"  
  
"In about ten minutes, Headmaster."  
  
"You were out all night? Surely we don't have enough to keep you busy."  
  
"I find enough, Headmaster."  
  
I saw the twinkle in his eyes die for a second, until he looked at Snape's calm manner.  
  
"I see Professor Snape is well," Dumbledore said.  
  
"Of course, Headmaster. Who would be able to hunt a soul such as his?"  
  
With that comment, I nodded to the Headmaster and left him to mull over my words and the meanings behind them. If Dumbledore was as smart as I thought him to be, he would realize that I met Snape last night, knew of his true form, and souled status.  
  
Souled vampires are quite rare. Two ways exist to ensoul an accursed vampire, as all are. It is possible to use the spirit of the moon goddess to regain a vampire's soul by magic, but it is a highly dangerous process, for the witch performing the spell as well as the vampire. The spell has been attempted countless times, but it has only been successfully and safely carried out eighty times since the creation of the vampiric race, about twelve hundred years ago.  
  
The other way is much less common, if such a thing is possible. An accursed vampire, turned from magic wielder, may regain a soul if he feeds from a willing source that is the soul match of the accursed. Snape had been a wizard, a magic wielder before being turned. I know for a fact, smelling his blood and death, that he has never taken an unwilling meal. Apparently, one of his sources was Snape's soul mate.  
  
This discovery leads to a new relationship. The vampire and mate become tightly connected, able to communicate telepathically. The mate becomes immune to vampire bites. Both grow stronger magically, the mate especially, as they gain many of the vampires skill, like stealth and acute hearing. The vampire becomes the dominus, lord of the relationship, for he can summon the living at any time for any reason. The living becomes a servus, servant of the vampire master.  
  
There was only one other person in the Great Hall that smelt of redeemed cursing peculiar to the souled vampire, and that was Snape's mate.  
  
Harry Potter.  
  
This, of course, brought up some interesting questions. I didn't think Dumbledore knew, which was good for the pair, but unpardonable for the Headmaster. He would never have let this continue beyond the first feeding - his manipulations have been completely thrown off by this development. Now it's too late, the two are bound. Where was Hogwart's Golden Boy when this happened? The bond smelt old, a couple of months perhaps. Over the summer, then. Where were they both? Does Snape's pseudo-master know? If Voldemort knew, he could order Snape to summon Harry, who would have to obey his dominus.  
  
My mind snapped back to the present as a pair of footsteps continued following me around a corner. I was returning to my quarters, in an abandoned and long-forgotten part of the dungeons where no others had business. I pulled my wand and moved silently behind a suit of armor. The footsteps neared my position and I reacted. Scant seconds later, my follower was on the floor. I was straddled on top of him and my wand was pointing between his eyes. Silver eyes. 


	6. Elven Speak

"Mr. Malfoy," I remarked icily, standing up and straightening my cloak. "The next time, I may choose to act first and think later. And yes, before you ask, that was me thinking first. You're still alive, are you not?"  
  
He also stood and looked at me wide-eyed.  
  
"How.how did you know I was following you?"  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, may I remind you that I am a mage? What do you think that entails?" Before he could answer I waved my question away. "Never mind that, Mr. Malfoy. You'll learn later on."  
  
I gazed at the Slytherin Prince, as he had been sarcastically named and introduced by Madam Hooch over dinner the previous night. He was a Veela, that much was obvious, with white hair and silver eyes. Tall, aristocratic, high cheekbones, pale skin, dressed in the color of darkness.  
  
"As you here, Mr. Malfoy, I assume you wish to speak with me?"  
  
Malfoy nodded.  
  
"Very well then. Follow me. And don't get lost."  
  
Around six more corners, down two staircases, further into the dank dungeons that Malfoy had ever been before. I knew he was hopelessly lost. We reached a portrait of a group of young elves frolicking in a forest clearing. The elves at times, became trees and grass. I watched Malfoy's face and was impressed with his control of emotions, though I could see his awe in deep pools of iron.  
  
{Greetings, crèche,} I said, and Malfoy looked at me in shock.  
  
{Greetings, Elven Mage,} they all chorused, scrambling to speak with me. {Who is that gangly human with you?}  
  
{His name is Draco Malfoy.}  
  
{He is like you? A moon creature?}  
  
{Yes, but like a child. He has no training.}  
  
{You will provide him with lessons, Mage?}  
  
{If he agrees. May I enter my room now?}  
  
{We must have the password, Mage. Forgive us, but we are.}  
  
I waved the portrait's inhabitants off. {That's quite all right. Lly'hivasor.}  
  
{Thank you,} they replied as one, as the portrait opened.  
  
----  
  
AN: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far! 


	7. Firefly Nets

Malfoy followed me in and gasped. I moved to my small kitchen and retrieved some tea before coming back out to see my guest still standing in the doorway.  
  
"Could you enter, please, Mr. Malfoy? The portrait wishes to close."  
  
"It's so beautiful," Malfoy murmured, moving forward slightly and allowing the door to swing shut.  
  
I looked at my room and frowned. We were only in the living room, and there was nothing special here, where anyone could see it. My kitchen and workroom were off to one side of the semi-circular living room while the bedroom and bathroom were off the other. The ceiling was high, almost two full stories. The furniture was white and plain, but invitingly arranged around a tree stump coffee-table. Woven tapestries filled the walls, depicting scenes from battles immemorial. Small lamps filled the corners with soft light and a huge yet sparsely woven net of fireflies separated the first floor from the rest of the walls and ceiling. Grass and moss were spring underfoot and covered the entire ground, including the stairs to my bedroom. Trees were scattered here and there, crystals of all varieties hanging from branches like ripe fruit. A small fountain bubbled by the door, the water running off into a stream that ran through the living area, around the walls, and on the ceiling to a spot directly above the door. A small waterfall brought the stream back down to the fountain. Above the firefly net, the ceiling had been enchanted like that in the Great Hall, with full and current solar and star charts. Thousands of books on hundreds of shelves floated by the walls above the net with small balconies next to them. Enough space existed in the net to float through, and lamps adorned the bookshelves to illuminate the balconies if I wanted to read up there.  
  
The result was pleasant enough. It almost felt like a forest, with soft lighting that could almost be mistaken for the twilight sun floating through canopies of leaves. It resembled my mage home - where I had lived while undergoing my mage training - and brought me a certain amount of peace. I saw nothing that would provoke such a response of wonder that Malfoy was displaying.  
  
"What about it?" I asked, curious to know what he was thinking.  
  
"The lights, the trees, the fountain.everything. It's truly amazing. I almost feel like."  
  
"Feel like?"  
  
"Like I'm at home."  
  
I looked at the boy deeper and things began to click for me. I wouldn't know for sure, not until I transformed and taught him, but it was entirely possible. I saw the Malfoy scion look at me curiously, and I nodded to myself.  
  
"Shall I explain what I can, then?"  
  
He smiled hesitantly.  
  
"Please."  
  
"Many of the lamps you see are of the Dwarven variety. They can be turned up to give off intense lights, even under miles and miles of ground and rock. The trees are gifts from dryads I've worked with and the water in the fountain is enchanted with naiad magic. The crystals use ethereal magic, spirit magic, while the solar system and star charts are made from centaur wisdom. The moss and grass we are standing on is enchanted with goblin magic. Other magics exist in the other rooms, but I think we'll stay out here for now."  
  
"The fireflies?"  
  
"Elven magic. Don't worry, they aren't imprisoned. Any of them can leave at any time they desire."  
  
"You know elves? Was that the language you were speaking to the portrait?"  
  
"Yes, I know elves. Yes, that was the language I was speaking. And before you ask, no, the elves I know did not enchant the net for me. I did it myself."  
  
"You.. .yourself?"  
  
"Yes," I replied, amused with the Veela in front of me. "But I'll get into that later, in class. Why don't you sit down, have some tea, and tell me why you were stalking me through the dungeons."  
  
--  
  
AN: Is it safe to say that I want that room myself? Things are clicking for the mage - what things? What is it about Draco? And even Malfoy himself has questions! You'll get answers when he does, I promise. 


	8. Magic Veela

Malfoy nodded and went to sit on a plush white chair. I sat across from him and handed him some tea. Sipping mine, I waited for him to speak.  
  
Eventually, he asked me, "Are you human?"  
  
"Not expressly, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
"What are you?"  
  
"What do you think I am?"  
  
"A Veela." He answered without hesitation. Good.  
  
"Like you, Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"Yes. Are you?"  
  
"I am."  
  
"Full-blooded?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Magic?"  
  
"Yes," I replied again.  
  
"Trained?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Malfoy paused and considered the information I had just given him. In our time, full-blooded Veela's are hard to find. With the destruction of the majority of their race in the war against Grindelwald, Veelas had to look to human wizards for mates. This meant that many of the Veela talents, especially in magic, had been diluted, even lost. Even the Malfoy family had diluted Veela blood in their lineage, not pure Veela as everyone assumed. The man sitting before me was half-Veela at the most.  
  
Interestingly enough, this did not completely take away all of the Veela powers. In diluted blood, the powers simply needed.. .awakening. The awakening process itself was quite vigorous, and many half-bloods had tried it with little success. The small fact most of them overlooked was one Malfoy would not have to worry about, or so I hoped. Diluted Veela require a pureblood to lead them in the awakening and train latent Veela power.  
  
I was a pureblood. I was trained in the ways of the Veela people, and had my awakening already. I was more than capable of leading young Malfoy to his own awakening.  
  
"Why did Dumbledore hire you?" Ah, a new train of thought. How interesting.  
  
"I have several reasons for wanting to teach, and I assume the Headmaster has his reasons for hiring me."  
  
"And they would encompass?"  
  
"The headmaster wishes a powerful witch to teach those who will fight the darkness. I am powerful. He also wants me close, to keep an eye on my loyalties. Just because I am powerful and willing to work for the good does not make me beyond reproach. I am still a Veela, therefore dark. I also wish to teach several seventh-years some of my own skills. He desires the same thing."  
  
"What skills?"  
  
"I believe that will be answered in class this afternoon. I will answer questions then."  
  
"Which seventh-years?"  
  
"I am not at liberty to say, nor would I without asking them if they wish you to know. However," I continued, seeing Malfoy's disappointment, "I have not yet spoken with them. You are the first."  
  
"Me?"  
  
I nod, gratified to see the suspicion written on his face. "I was going to wait, but since you followed me to my rooms, I suppose now is as good a time as any. If you desire, I am willing to train your Veela talents and help you through your awakening."  
  
"Awaken me?" Malfoy murmured. "You would do that?"  
  
"Yes, if I know you fully understand what that means before you answer. With that in mind, I will not look for answer until next Monday. If you agree to this training - which will be intense - come to the DADA classroom after dinner. Until then, I have a book that will answer your questions and shed some light on the process. Don't worry about others seeing it, it's charmed to read differently from anyone other than you."  
  
"If I agree, I will meet you next Monday."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," I said, rising and pulling out a book from my pocket. Malfoy frowned, as the book hadn't been there a moment ago, but he said nothing and also rose.  
  
"Thank you, professor," he said, walking to the door.  
  
It swung open and he stepped through, then looked around.  
  
"Professor?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"How can I.. .which way..?"  
  
I followed Malfoy through the portrait and spoke an Elven spell. A ball of silver light appeared in front of my visitor.  
  
"Put your hand on it, then tell it where you want to go. It will disappear when you reach your destination."  
  
"Slytherin Common Room entrance," Malfoy said, placing his hand on the ball of silver. It flared green and moved a few feet beyond the man. He looked at me, nodded his thanks, and left.  
  
I turned back to the portrait and glared at the giggling elves.  
  
{A green directional spell, Mage?}  
  
{Silver. He turned it. Now let me in, you fools. I'm tired.}  
  
They stopped giggling and looked apologetic.  
  
{Sorry, Mage. Password?}  
  
{Lly'havisor.}  
  
I stalked inside, and went to bed.  
  
--  
  
AN: Hey bAthenakitty/b!!! Many, many questions! Okay, to try and answer them and hopefully entice more people into reviewing: No, Harry's not the dominus. Sev's the vamp, so Sev gets control of the relationship. More will be explained about that later. I think this explains more of Malfoy's reaction, and no, Rowan won't tell Dumbledore about anything. She's incredibly close-mouthed, except when she's telling me I'm an awful writer and I'm getting everything wrong. Kinky sex scenes? Hopefully, we've already got one established slash relationship, but the focus is gonna be on the two Veela. Yes, they will hook up eventually, and anything with those two is gonna be kinky - they're Veela!!! Um, let's see. Rowan might ask Snape about Harry soon, I haven't really decided when exactly, but yes, she will ask eventually. Harry and Snape have had sex, Harry has some of the Vampiric powers, Harry really is Sev's soul mate, they have bonded, and hopefully much, much more will be quite shocking. 


	9. Points Earned

A snake woke me up a few hours later, in time for lunch.  
  
//Mage?//  
  
I groaned.  
  
\\It cannot be lunch already, Sssalazzz.\\  
  
//Forgive me, mage.//  
  
\\Not your fault. Thanks for waking me.\\  
  
I showered and reveled in the feeling of hot water over my aching muscles. I might be the Slayer, one of them, at least, but my body still groaned after eight hours of hunting vampires. I dried myself with a spell and got dressed. Black leather, head to toe. An open black battle robe with the crest of an Elven Fire Mage on each shoulder, the material encharmed for defense and runed for healing. Boots. My crystal necklace. My first and third wands. My wrist gauntlets and knives, charmed for invisibility. I left my hair down, loose silver curls covering my upper back.  
  
Giving myself the once-over, I nodded my own approval and left for lunch, Salaz hidden around my arm.  
  
Children in the hallways skittered sideways when I stalked by them, falling silent and watching me carefully. I entered the Great Hall through the staff door and smirked as the hall fell silent almost immediately.  
  
I sat next to Snape, and nodded at the vampire.  
  
"Even I cannot get them to quiet down that quickly," he said with a smile. "I envy your abilities. How was your rest, Mage?"  
  
"Refreshing, thank you."  
  
"I heard Draco had a discussion with you, though he wouldn't tell me the subject."  
  
"You sound perturbed."  
  
"Draco is my godson, and we have a very open relationship. I am not used to him hiding things from me. Besides, he was late for my class this morning. Will you vouch for him so I can rescind the loss of house points?"  
  
"How many did you take?"  
  
"Fifteen."  
  
I raised an eyebrow. Though it was only my second full day at Hogwarts, I had already heard that Snape never took points from his own house, especially Draco. For him to take that many off from his favorite student.. .  
  
"I was upset," Snape said.  
  
"Well then. Let's see. Fifteen points to Slytherin for keeping a confidence and ten more for bravery - keeping that confidence from a valued friend."  
  
Snape grinned and returned to his food. I looked at my plate and sighed, craving my normal mage-food. I pulled out my wand and drew a complicated rune on the ceramic. The runes professor, Beacen, watched me from down the table in fascination. When the rune was glowing gold, I muttered some Dwarven. The rune expanded to cover the plate and green leaves covered the dish. Pieces of golden meat appeared on top, with a red dressing lightly flicked over everything.  
  
I looked back at the people staring at me, and sighed.  
  
"The leaves are found in Dwarven villages in Russia. The meat is from the J'yarii in the mountains of China. The dressing is African in origin."  
  
"How'd you manage the rune?" Beacen said.  
  
"Mage Rowan is a mistress of several subjects, including Runes," Dumbledore said, effectively silencing the table. "I believe you will have a chance to ask Rowan questions at the staff meeting on Friday."  
  
With that, we all returned to our food.  
  
Everyone was silent, pondering what Dumbledore had revealed. It was not easy to be a master or mistress of any subject. It demanded at least ten years of solid training in one subject to even be considered ripe for a mastery. Snape was a potions master, and I alone at the table knew what he had been through.  
  
First, one is approached by a current master and asked if they would like to become an apprentice. No one can simply decide to be a master. Magical aptitude is tested from afar, around the apprentice's thirteenth birthday. They are watched until graduation, and approached then. If the approached accepts, they enter the School of Masters for training, and aren't heard from until after they reach a level ten mastery of their chosen subject. The training is difficult. The first year is spent mostly on physical activities, making sure that the apprentice is physically able to withstand the next nine years and bringing them up to an appropriate level of health. The second year covers the basics of every subject. The third begins narrowed training of one area. The next seven years are spent learning everything there is to know about the area. During the tenth year, the apprentice must make five contributions to the area, usually something new, or expanded knowledge of something old. Every consecutive discovery after that raises the mastery level by one point. Snape was currently a Potions Master, level Four. The man was a veritable genius when it came to potions.  
  
Dumbledore told the staff I was a mistress of Runes, and only Snape knew exactly what kind of harsh schooling I had endured, for he had as well. The Headmaster also said I was a mistress of several subjects, which most would believe to be impossible. The masters make very little exceptions for their most basic rule - everyone has one specialty, no more, no less. It requires someone of intense magical power to become a master of more than one subject, to keep the subjects separate yet know when to integrate them, to show that much power in more than one core area. To be honest, I knew I wouldn't keep Snape waiting that long to find out about me. One master to another, I had to tell him.  
  
--  
  
AN: Did that make sense? Beacen is old English for "Symbol," which I thought would be appropriate for a Runes professor. Yes, Rowan is a Parseltongue, but no one knows yet besides you!  
  
A word of clarification: I'm trying to get the italics to work, we'll see how that goes. \\Parseltongue\\ //Parseltongue// {Elven} ~Thoughts~ [Telepathy] 


	10. 7th Year Questions

Most of the professors left as soon as they were done eating, shooting me curious glances as they went to classes or offices. I stayed until the end of the lunch period, leaning back in my chair with a hot cup of l'kona, an Elven drink of milk, chocolate, and honey that I conjured up. Snape also stayed, and we exchanged pleasantries for a while. The Slayer in me had apparently reached an understanding with the professor last night, and we shared an understanding in our common mastery.  
  
We left the hall together, and I invited Snape to my rooms that evening after dinner for a chat. He accepted with a smile, and I left him to teach my seventh-year class.  
  
I reviewed the roll and groaned mentally. Abbott. Bones. Boot. Brocklehurst. Brown. Granger. Longbottom. Malfoy. Parkinson. Potter. Weasley. Zabini. Three Slytherins. Five Gryffindors. Two Ravenclaws. Two Hufflepuffs. Twelve students.  
  
I looked up and counted. They were all here, some anxious, some excited, some suspicious. This wouldn't do.  
  
"We'll start slow," I said. "I know some of you have questions about me, where I've been, what I do. I think it's best if we take care of those things right away. Who's first?"  
  
Zabini raised his hand, a sly, brown-haired boy seated next to Malfoy.  
  
"Were you ever at Hogwarts, Mage Rowan?"  
  
"No, I wasn't. I was accepted to the Salem Academy in America and graduated there before beginning my training."  
  
"How old were you when you began?" Grander asked me. Smart girl.  
  
"I was nine."  
  
She whitened, then asked, "And when you finished?"  
  
"14."  
  
Weasley didn't understand her gasp, but surprisingly enough, Parkinson did.  
  
"You finished Salem in five years? At 14?"  
  
"Yes, Miss Parkinson, I did."  
  
"Why is that important?" A mousy girl asked me. Susan Bones. Hufflepuff.  
  
"Well, Miss Bones. Salem is the most intensive and difficult wizarding school to graduate from. Most students begin Salem at the age of eleven, same as Hogwarts. While you have nine or ten subjects from your third year on, Salem students begin their first year with twelve. By the time a student reaches their seventh year, they have taken anywhere from fourteen to eighteen different classes, and must pass them all with perfect marks on exams at the end of their seventh year in order to graduate. As a result, very few students graduate by their eighteenth birthday. Most don't graduate until they are twenty or twenty-one. The average length a student spends at Salem is ten years. However, the students, their families, and the wizarding world are willing to accept this because of the education the students at Salem receive."  
  
"So how did you manage it in five years?"  
  
"And why did they let you in two years early?"  
  
"Good questions. They let me in early because I needed to control my magic. It was getting dangerous for me and those around me because I was doing wandless magic. Much like most of you experienced your first magical burst, I did as well, at the age of three. However, I kept doing it uncontrollably, and people felt this needed to be restrained. I graduated in five years because my professors taught me independently and during the summer."  
  
"How many classes did you take?"  
  
"All twenty that Salem offered, and I passed all of them perfectly when I was fourteen."  
  
Silence in the room.  
  
"What did you do after you graduated?"  
  
"Ah, Mr. Potter. Thank you for asking. I trained with different groups of people for six years and also discovered some abilities I didn't know I had. After that, I entered mage training."  
  
"And what did that entail?"  
  
A very good question, and one I wasn't sure I could answer. These children - young adults, were incapable of understanding much of what I went through.  
  
"Well, a mage is someone who can think outside of their own race and see the world in distinctively non-racial terms. For example, when I see a tree, I don't see the same thing you all do. I see a home, or a tree- spirit, or the memory of an ancient magic. A mage learns to perform spells in other languages, coming from other mindsets. Each mage finds a magical race that suits them the best. It's like.. .choosing a wand. Really, the wand chooses the wizard. Much like that, magic chooses a mage. Though I am not an elf, I work best with Elven magic. That's why the crest on my battle robes shows a tree - the symbol of the Elven magic. A mage also discovers that they work best with one of the seven elements, fire, water, wind, earth, light, love, or life. I found that my affinity lies with fire, hence I was trained to become a Fire Mage, and hence the tree on my crest is surrounded by fire."  
  
"Does your name have anything to do with your magic?" Miss Brown asked.  
  
"Yes, it does. To a mage, a true name, the one you are born with, is sacred, a secret. By naming something, you have a certain power over it. My public name is Rowan, which I chose based on my first success with another race's magic. My private name, the one my parents gave me, is something that very few people know or ever will know. Even though none of you have mage names, I will not refer to you by your first name unless you ask me, because, in my mind, that is your secret name and I have no right to use it unless you invite me to."  
  
"What's with all the weapons and stuff you were wearing last night?"  
  
I made a mental note to try and help Miss Bones with her vocabulary.  
  
"Most of my weapons are traditional mage-weapons, my daggers, knives, and swords, for example. In addition to being a Mage, I am also a vampire hunter" - no need for them to know about the Slayer just yet - "hence the stakes. My necklace is a divination crystal, the phials are filled with healing potions I might need. The bells and bandolier are the tools of a necromancer. Before you go jumping to conclusions, there are two branches of the necromantic arts. One of them raises the dead, the other lays the dead to rest. I will have you know I am of the second variety."  
  
"Why do you carry so many wands?"  
  
"While it is true that each wizard has one wand that works best for them, occasionally, when a person finds a particular leaning toward one magical area, a different wand will work better. For instance, Mr. Potter. Your father had his general wand, which was good for transfiguration, I believe. However, he also had a second wand made specifically for transfiguration. The second wand worked transfiguration spells more precisely, but could not have performed a single levitation charm."  
  
"How many wands do you have?"  
  
"I have eight - one general, and seven specific."  
  
"What subjects are they for?"  
  
"Defense, of course, transfiguration, divination, potions, runes, and charms. I also have one wand that is specific for the dark arts."  
  
Several members of the class glared at me, Mr. Potter included.  
  
"You perform the dark arts, Mage?"  
  
"One of the consequences of being a mage, Mr. Potter, is necessity. Just because people like Voldemort use the dark arts does not make the arts evil. They, like Slytherin, are not evil, just dark."  
  
"What were you doing in Japan?"  
  
"The short answer to that, Miss Granger, is that all Elven Fire mages were asked by the Magical government of Japan to aid them in ridding the nation of some rampaging smoke demons. Elven mages have the most power against demons, and only Fire mages can destroy smoke. There are only four other mages with the same designation as me, and it took us a year to round up and destroy the demons. I'm hoping this year I can rest a little."  
  
"How many demons?"  
  
"Three."  
  
"And it took five of you a year?"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, don't look so surprised. Smoke demons are elusive. They hide in fireplaces, in factories, everywhere that smoke exists, and they can travel invisibly through the air. They have no magic signature, so tracking is near impossible without help. Let this be your first lesson. Appearances can be deceiving, and just because a person is powerful does not mean they can destroy what they want to easily."  
  
I looked at my class and saw their rapt attention and growing understanding. With a wave of my hand, I dismissed them until Thursday, after telling them to read the first chapter of their assigned textbook.  
  
Malfoy sat at his desk and waited for the rest of the class to file out. He was thrown some odd looks by the Gryffindors, but left alone. Once it was just the two of us, he spoke.  
  
"I was wondering, Mage Rowan."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy? What can I do for you?"  
  
"When it's just the two of us, I was hoping you could.. .you could call me Draco."  
  
I wasn't expecting that. Such a handing over of trust, by a Slytherin, no less.  
  
"You understand that I am not required the same action? And that this shows you trust me with the information?"  
  
"I understand, Mage."  
  
"Very well, Draco. Thank you for the faith you have in me. I will not let you down."  
  
He smiled and left. I collapsed in my chair. If I was right, this could prove to be an interesting year.  
  
--  
  
AN: Hi everyone! Does that answer some of your questions about Rowan? 


	11. Master to Master

Dinner that night was quite interesting. My advanced seventh-years took two class sessions, so I only had one more class to teach: a combined class of Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years. In a paradoxical twist, the first years were more respectful towards me, while less afraid. Despite having only two classes, I was quite exhausted by the time I arrived in the Great Hall, and didn't hear the rumors flying around. After I began eating, Professor Snape made sure to fill me in.  
  
"The latest," he said, leaning over and whispering conspiratorially, "is that you are over three hundred years old, an immortal, more powerful than even Lady Hecate the Goddess of Magic, and out for Potter."  
  
"The first three I would understand, but why I am offing the Boy-Who- Lived?"  
  
"Apparently, you're out to get Draco over there, but his secret boyfriend won't let you and has challenged you to a duel tonight."  
  
I smirked into my coffee.  
  
"Who started that one?"  
  
"One of the Ravenclaws. For being so smart, that house has some of the most insane people in it. No common sense, whatsoever."  
  
Once done, Snape and I left together, Potter's eyes on Snape, Draco's on me. I took Snape down to my rooms, as he asked to see them. I was amused to see that even the Head of Slytherin was confused by the twists and turns it took to reach the portrait of the elves.  
  
We entered and his gaze, while not as awestruck as Draco's, roamed the living room, taking in every detail. We sat down and I muttered some spells for warmth, light, and l'kona. Snape sampled the drink and told me he found it pleasant.  
  
"Neither of us, I think, are fans of small talk," I began.  
  
Snape nodded.  
  
"I wanted to tell you, Master to Master, what I am and why I am here."  
  
I explained to Snape about the Mage system, going into more detail than I had given my seventh years. I also told him about my years at Salem - who I studied under especially, as my Potions professor had once been Snape's mentor.  
  
"After I graduated from Salem, I was called as a Slayer. The Council sent me a Watcher and I trained in New York for a few months before going to the Hellmouth and training with Buffy Summers and her Watcher, Giles. The traditional coming-of-age ritual one is forced to undergo at 18, I took when I turned 15. I passed."  
  
"Which means what?"  
  
"I don't need a Watcher anymore. The Council of Watchers feels I know enough of the old prophecies and that I'm able to take care of myself. Because I'm not assigned to the Hellmouth, I'm allowed to roam where I please."  
  
"I thought only one Slayer exists at a time?" Snape asked, confused.  
  
"That's a rumor propagated by the Watcher's Council. Makes the vampires around the world feel more off-guard if they know the Slayer's in Sunnydale. Usually, there are three Slayers, one for the Hellmouth, one to roam - currently Miyu, who I met in Japan, and one that's insane, in order to see the patterns of the vampiric world - that's the Slayer Faith."  
  
"Patterns?"  
  
"There's a pattern to the way Vampires and Slayers interact. Some of the more.slightly unhinged.vampires can see the pattern and use it to try and overwhelm the Slayers. Because Faith can see the pattern, she can keep balance and counteract the insane vampires."  
  
"So where do you fit in with all of this?"  
  
"A few years ago, Buffy called the spirit of the First Slayer and bonded with her. Buffy was inhabited by the First Slayer and found out more about the Slayer heritage than anyone before her knew. Then, Buffy died. The First Slayer was left as a spirit and stranded on earth without a vessel. She chose to inhabit me, thanks to my powerful magic, making me the vessel of the First Slayer. Buffy came back, thanks to a very powerful Wiccan, and retains memories of the First, but not the First herself. Thanks to the First, I was called as a Slayer."  
  
"After that?"  
  
"I left America and traveled to India. I spent just under a year there and studied the art of necromancy."  
  
"Raising?"  
  
"I studied both, but I'm a Binder. When I left, my master gave me his mentor's bells and pipes. I was approached by the College of Masters at the age of 16 and spent five years there."  
  
Snape's jaw dropped.  
  
"Five years? And you're a Master?"  
  
"Yes. I studied hard and the Masters allowed me to accelerate my studied. They were approached by the Mage Circle when I began at the College and told that the Mages would come for me in five years. They had that time to train me."  
  
"What are your specialties, Mistress Rowan? I see you have seven wands."  
  
"My first mastery came in Defense against the Dark Arts. I also am a Divination mistress, a Charms mistress, a Transfiguration mistress, a Runes mistress, a mistress of the Dark Arts, and.a Potions mistress."  
  
"Potions?" Snape's eyes gleamed with camaraderie, not threatened at all. "I don't remember your name on the lists of achievements."  
  
"The Masters thought it best to protect my name because of my promise to the Mage Circle, because of my gifts and the rising of Voldemort. Dumbledore especially advised the Masters to keep me anonymous. I published under a pseudonym."  
  
"Which was?"  
  
"Maleficent." I began, and Snape finished.  
  
"Glennis. Amazing. I highly respect your work. How did you discover the aconite-valerian combination?"  
  
"Actually," I said, beginning a conversation that lasted well into the night. 


	12. Explanations

"So," Snape said, at about four o'clock in the morning, "why are you here?"  
  
"I'd like to teach a few of the students here some of my advanced skills."  
  
"Who and what?"  
  
"I've only approached Malfoy so far."  
  
"Draco?" Snape's surprise was evident in his face.  
  
"Yes. I'd like to train his Veela talents."  
  
"You're a Veela, then?"  
  
"Full-blooded, and magic."  
  
"A dark creature, becoming a Mistress, a Mage, a Binder, and a Slayer. One who lives only to destroy other dark creatures and arts." Snape mused.  
  
"Not only," I said, defending myself. "I live for other things, as well."  
  
Snape wisely left that remark alone. "Who else?" he asked.  
  
"Your servus, if possible. The Headmaster has agreed, but I haven't approached Mr. Potter yet."  
  
"In what?"  
  
"The Dark Arts, and defense against them."  
  
"Who else?"  
  
"Miss Brown. She has the potential to become a great Divinatrix. I'd like to tutor Mr. Longbottom in Potions. I know Professor Sprout is taking him on as an apprentice in herbology, and I think he would benefit from some extra attention in Potions. Mr. Zabini has the necessary skills to become a necromancer and I am bound to apprentice someone here in that skill."  
  
"Bound?"  
  
"It is a long story and quite a boring one."  
  
"I'll take your word on that, then," Snape said, searching my face and recognizing that I would not give him an answer. "Is there anyone else?"  
  
"Actually, I don't know how you'll take the news, but there is one here the Council of Watchers has asked me to train as a potential Slayer."  
  
Snape's face paled, turning a deadlier shade of whiter than normal.  
  
"And who would that be?"  
  
"Miss Granger."  
  
"I see," Snape said slowly. He gestured as if to speak again, but his face contorted in a rictus of pain. His eyes turned golden and he groaned in agony. His fangs protracted and his attitude took on the vampire's bloodlust. Using the knowledge of the First Slayer within me, I guessed he hadn't fed in over thirty hours - not a wise thing, as most vampires require blood once every ten. Knowing it would take too long to get Mr. Potter down to my chambers, I threw a prayer to heaven, conjured a knife, and cut open my arm. I offered it to Snape. 


	13. Food from a Goddess

He took my proffered arm, dug his fangs into the cut, and drank. I could feel the blood being pulled from my body and stiffened. The First Slayer tried to take over, to pull back from the feeding and stake the undead creature, souled or not. Simultaneously, the Veela part of my wanted to embrace my fellow creature of the night and let him feed forever.  
  
After exactly one hundred and fifty seconds, Snape's eyes snapped open and he stumbled back from me, blood dripping from his canines.  
  
"What? What was that?"  
  
"It happens every time," I mused, gaining the Potions Master's attention. "What was what?" I asked him louder.  
  
"I could feel the Slayer fighting the Veela, twin pulls of hatred and love. But then, suddenly, it was like I drank pure knowledge, pure magic. What was that? Is it because you're so powerful?" Snape collapsed onto a chair and returned to the silent professor everyone saw.  
  
"There is a practice among mages," I said slowly, "that our real names are sacred. They reveal so much about a person. My public name is not so sacred, but indicative of my gifts and abilities."  
  
"Rowan," Snape said, filling in the blanks. "The tree of wisdom and magic."  
  
"Yes. The tree of the Goddess Hecate."  
  
"The creator of magic. What did you do to earn the right to choose this name?"  
  
"It was my first true use of Elven magic. I coaxed rowan trees to grow in the middle of the desert."  
  
"That's impossible!" Snape gasped. "Rowan only grows in sacred groves."  
  
"Obviously not impossible."  
  
"What does this have to do with the magic I felt? Obviously you're quite powerful, your task proves that, but. . ."  
  
"My private name, professor, which you will not be able to share, is Hecate. I am the current incarnation of the Goddess of Magic."  
  
Snape stared at me.  
  
"Hecate?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"I can't. . .I mean, I have to. . ."  
  
"It's all right, professor."  
  
"Severus."  
  
"Severus. Take some time. Go and rest. You have classes in five hours."  
  
"Thank you, Rowan. I will."  
  
Severus left, still dazed, and I sent Salaz to make sure the gob smacked professor made it to the upper dungeons.  
  
With three hours left before sunrise, I decided to skip the hunting in favor of bed.  
I rose at ten, completely refreshed. After cleaning and eating some food brought by a house-elf, I went to the library in search of Miss Granger. Madam Pince pointed out Miss Granger's usual table with respect - anyone who undergoes master's training spends hours in research, and her sister Lunera runs the Mastery library. If I met Lunera's high standards, I was good enough for Madam Pince.  
  
Sure enough, Miss Granger was exactly where the librarian said she would be found, surrounded by books and all alone. I slid into the chair across the table from her and waited for her to finish reading the section she was on. No surprise as to her subject matter - every book either dealt with Salem Academy or Mage lore and history.  
  
Miss Granger closed her eyes and closed the book softly.  
  
"Is it that interesting?" I asked, provoking a gasp from the brown-haired girl.  
  
"Mage Rowan, I. . ."  
  
"It's quite all right, Miss Granger."  
  
"Please, call me Hermione."  
  
"Very well," I smiled. "Hermione."  
  
"Is there something I can help you with, Mage?"  
  
"Actually, Hermione, I was wondering how much you knew about Slayers."  
  
Hermione launched into a fifteen-minute lecture on the Slayer, the history of the line, gifts, etc. When she finally paused for breath, I held up a hand to stop her.  
  
"For having offhand knowledge, you certainly have a good basis."  
  
Hermione looked sheepish, which I pointed out to her.  
  
"When you came in on Sunday," she explained, "I saw the stakes. I came to the library yesterday morning to look up vampire hunters. There was a book on the difference and similarities between hunters and Slayers. You just seemed more like a Slayer, so that's where I concentrated my research."  
  
I "mmph"ed uncommittedly and Hermione frowned.  
  
"May I ask why you're curious enough to search me out?"  
  
"I have been asked by the Council of Watchers to train you as a potential, if you are interested."  
  
"Me?" Hermione shrieked.  
  
"Yes. Now, I won't lie to you. The training will be intense and at night, so you'll have to learn to survive on little sleep. I don't want an answer now," I quickly said, seeing Hermione's mouth open. "If you agree, tell me after class on Monday. We will start - again, if you agree - on Tuesday night, at 11."  
  
I rose and left with a nod of thanks to both my current student and Madam Pince. 


	14. Dark and Light

A word of clarification: I'm trying to get the italics to work, we'll see how that goes. \\Parseltongue\\ //Parseltongue// {Elven} ~Thoughts~ [Telepathy]  
  
Casting a tempus spell, I saw that it was an hour before lunch. I made my way to the Headmaster's office and saw Mr. Potter already standing by the gargoyle. He saw me approach and smiled guardedly.  
  
"Mage Rowan."  
  
"Mr. Potter," I replied, before telling the gargoyle, "Pop rocks."  
  
Potter smiled and I motioned him ahead of me. The door was open when we reached the top of the staircase and the Headmaster called us to enter.  
  
Potter sat across from Dumbledore and I stood off to the side.  
  
"How was your first Potions class yesterday, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"Neville didn't melt a cauldron, sir. I think Professor Snape was disappointed not to be able to take more points off of Gryffindor."  
  
The exchange was riveting. I could tell Dumbledore knew nothing of the soul bond. Potter's acting was top-notch.  
  
After some more small talk and the obligatory offer of lemon drops, the headmaster finally broached the reason both Potter and myself were here for.  
  
"I was curious, Harry, if you would be interested in extra lessons with Mage Rowan."  
  
Potter's eyes flashed to me, then back to the headmaster.  
  
"In defense?"  
  
"And the Dark Arts themselves."  
  
"You would have me learn the Dark Arts, headmaster?"  
  
I interrupted.  
  
"Darkness does not equal evil, Mr. Potter. Slytherin, for example, is not evil, but dark. I urge you to remember the difference. The Dark Arts work with darkness, yes, and out of necessity, but they can be used to heal as much as the Light Arts can be used to kill."  
  
Potter looked at me, directly into my silver eyes. I submitted to his searching, after which he reluctantly agreed to my offer.  
  
"Starting next week, Wednesday nights, directly after dinner, in the defense classroom," I said. "Please do not tell any of your friends, Mr. Potter." I left abruptly, to allow Potter and his mentor private discussion.  
  
Lunch was delightful and humorous. Severus sat next to me and tried to act like normal. Instead, a certain obsequiousness and fear had settled over his features. Tapping into his vampiric telepathy, I spoke directly to Severus's mind.  
  
[I might be an incarnation of her, Severus, but am I not her. I'm not sitting here as the goddess, but as Mage Rowan. You have no need to fear me.]  
  
[And yet I do. You should have seen what I saw when I drank.]  
  
[I'm sure I have.]  
  
Severus blushed.  
  
[I suppose so.] He changed the subject, asking if I knew where Mr. Potter was.  
  
[Mr. Potter is, I believe, still with the Headmaster. I just came from the office. I start his training next Wednesday.]  
  
[Who else have you spoken with today?]  
  
[Just Miss Granger."  
  
Aloud, Snape asked, "Which classes do you teach today?"  
  
"Both third year classes, and the 6th year advanced."  
  
"If any of my Slytherins misbehave, feel free to discipline and take points as you desire."  
  
"Thank you, Professor."  
  
"You're lucky," McGonagall said from down the table. "He threatened to poison any of us who did so unless the circumstances were grave."  
  
"Which you've completely disregarded," Snape muttered.  
  
I smiled as McGonagall asked, "How'd you do it?"  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Get on his good side so fast?"  
  
"I'm a Master. One to another, it is simply respect."  
  
I rose from the table and walked to the DADA classroom, awaiting my third year Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff class. 


End file.
